


Constant

by BatchSan



Category: Original Work
Genre: Community: smut_fest, Cousincest, F/F, Femslash, Growing Up, Love Triangle, Mythical Being - Shapeshifter, Smut, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-12
Updated: 2013-01-12
Packaged: 2017-11-25 06:24:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/636043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BatchSan/pseuds/BatchSan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pets die and lovers change, but Jada will always have at least one constant in her life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Constant

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompts: _The monster underneath your bed isn't quite so much a typical, gross monster but rather a creature of supernatural origin that, after failing to scare you, has made a goal to bed you._ -AND- _Horny teenagers: "You get me into the weirdest kind of trouble."_

"Always remember that there's no such things as monsters."

Mommy kisses my forehead and goes to the door, watching me as I snuggle beneath my big comfy quilt with Billard snuggled tightly in my arms, his fur tickling my chin and making me giggle a little.

"Goodnight, mommy!"

"Goodnight, sweetie."

She blows me another kiss and shuts off the light. I bury my face in Billard's ears when she closes the door until only a little bit of light is painted on my floor. It lights up my closet, letting me know there are no monsters in there, but I know that already. I am six-years-old. A big girl. Big girls like me don't believe monsters live in their closets.

Monsters only live under the bed.

Mommy says that isn't true. She turns on lights and looks under my bed but never finds anything. Of course not, I keep telling her, the monster lives in the dark. So mommy tries to show me there's nothing there even with the lights off, using a flashlight under my bed. Mommy doesn't understand that any kind of light makes the monster hide. Sometimes mommies just didn't understand these type of things, but that's okay because I still love her.

Besides, I'm not a'scared of the monster.

When I turned five, I started hearing something breathing under my bed. Even when I closed my mouth and held my breath, I could still hear the breathing. Mommy told me it was my imagination and I used to cry a little because she didn't believe me back then. Aside from the breathing, sometimes the monster scratches at my carpet and it sounds the same way my kitty cat, Laurel, does when he scratches on his scratching post. I've never seen the monster, but sometimes when I hear it scratching, I imagine it's a big kitty cat under my bed and that makes me smile.

Tonight, the monster is scratching at my carpet again. I know I should be afraid but Billard, my bunny rabbit, tells me it's okay. He says it's just a big kitty cat scratching at the carpet. A naughty kitty, but not something to be a'scared of. Billard is a very smart rabbit and I believe him. 

"Stop scratching the carpet, kitty monster, or mommy is going to be mad," I whisper near the edge of my bed.

The scratching stops and Billard tells me I'm a good girl for making the naughty kitty monster under my bed listen.

*

"Goodnight, mom," I say, yawning.

"Goodnight, Jada."

The light goes out and the door closes only far enough to leave a familiar stretch of light across my floor and against the closet. It makes me feel like I'm still four years old when I was afraid of the monster in my closet because my stupid cousin, Lana, made me believe in it for a couple of weeks. Lana's so dumb. Just because she's three years older than me, she thinks she knows everything and likes to tease me every chance she gets.

I'm ten years old, so I'm not as dumb as she tries to make me look. She's the dumb one if anything. I really hate her.

It takes a while for me to hear the breathing under my bed and when I realize it's there, it makes me kind of mad. I feel like it's intruding on my thoughts or something. I'm half tempted to chuck Billard down there and yell at it for it to go home or wherever it goes when the lights come on. But I don't, because while I'm not afraid of it, I do worry that maybe it'll keep Billard to punish me for being mean to it.

Laurel stretches at my feet and Billard sits on my stomach, looking at me quietly with his dark brown glass eyes. I wish he still spoke to me, or that I could still imagine he did, but he doesn't and I can't because we both know better. We realize he isn't real, just a toy that I got when I was a little kid and nothing more. He can't breathe or talk or whisper secrets into my ear like I use to pretend he did. I still like him a lot though.

Sometimes I wish I could say the same thing for the monster under my bed, about it being not real. I know it has to be just a part of my imagination, just like Billard talking to me was. Only, not too long ago, I gathered the courage, during the day, and moved my bed to see what was under there. Under some dirty shirts and a dirty soccer ball mom was mad to find later on, there were scratch marks in the carpet where something had once been clawing at.

I moved the bed back and never looked under there again. 

Besides, my bed sometimes shifts slightly as something moves, rolling over maybe, underneath. I still try to imagine the monster is a big cat, but now it's looks a little like a big version of the Chesire Cat from _Alice in Wonderland_ and that kind of bothers me.

*

"Gawd, you still sleep with this thing?"

I lunge at Lana, snatching Billard away from her and holding him close to me. The old rabbit sags into himself in my arms but I hold onto him like I wasn't a thirteen-year-old teenager. My cousin raises one of her well plucked eyebrows at me before rolling her eyes. Flopping down onto my bed she mumbles a _'whatever'_ and makes herself cozy.

She annoys me - a lot. No matter how old we get, she still loves teasing me every chance she gets. Just because she has a decent set of boobs, curvy hips, and long, pretty red hair that she sometimes lets me comb. Oh, and because she's older, of course. I've grown to resent her because I'm still thin and boyish, my boobs so pitiful that I don't even really need a bra, and my hair is a mess of short, dark tangles that refuse to behave no matter how many times I brush them. Oh, and I'm still three years younger than her no matter what.

Life is not fair.

"Are you going to stand there huffing and puffing or are we going to get some rest?" Tossing her hair over her shoulder and rolling onto her back, Lana smiles. "Some of us need some beauty rest around here."

"You could sleep until you were dead and still not be as pretty as you think you are," I shoot back in annoyance. 

She laughs and strokes Laurel, who treacherously mews at her and leans into her hand. Growling, I shoo him off my bed and out the door before hitting the light switch. I take my time making sure the bedroom door is closed all the way because I haven't needed the comfort of the hallway light since I was eleven, and I didn't want that traitor cat curling up with Lana in the middle of the night. There's just enough moonlight spilling into my room from the window between my door and bed to help me find my way to the bed. I keep Billard close as my shin hits the edge of my bed and I quickly get in, pushing Lana so she's against the wall and not all over my side of the bed.

We talk a little bit here and there in the dark which isn't as bad as having to look at her smirk and roll her eyes at me when the lights are on. She pulls herself close to me at one point, saying the wall is cold against her back, slipping her arm over my stomach. I know she's doing it to piss me off because she presses her face against my shoulder next and pretends to be asleep until she really is a few minutes later. Great, now I'm trapped between an idiot and the edge of the bed. Billard is the only thing, literally, between me and falling off.

I've been trying to ignore it, but the breathing is back again, as if it'd been waiting for Lana to fall asleep to make itself known. Like an old secret just between the two of us, it and I. In the last few years, the breathing has become something more. It occasionally shifts against my bed from below, making the whole thing shake slightly. Sometimes the breaths aren't breaths, but teasing laughs or threatening growls that I know has to be in my head. Has to be because monsters under the bed don't exist and Billard hasn't talked since I was eight.

But sometimes I still tell it to stop because it's keeping me awake, and it actually returns to a quiet breathing. My imagination is weird.

Tonight, I hold my stuffed rabbit tight and willingly press myself against Lana, trying to ignore how good she smells as the breathing continues.

*

Mom is pretty mad when she storms into my room and informs Lana and I that the saran wrap in front of the bathroom door prank wasn't funny. We give her our best innocent looks but mom still chews us both out and slams the door behind her when she leaves. A moment later, the both of us are rolling around on the floor, laughing as silently as we both can manage. We stop beside each other, laying side by side until tears are running down our faces.

Then out of nowhere, Lana rolls over onto me, pins me to the floor with her hips, and kisses me square on the mouth.

My hands push her away out of instinct, but my brain is a million miles away, speeding through time and space in a blinding flash of light I can't hope to catch up with. My lips are warm and taste like the sour apple candy she'd been munching on earlier. When I pull my hand away, her lipstick is smeared lightly on the pads of my fingers. The only coherent thought pounding in my head, loud and clear, is that I'm fifteen-years-old and this is my first kiss.

Logically, I should be upset that it was my cousin and/or a girl that just kissed me, especially the fact that both are Lana, but no. _'First-kiss-oh-shit-oh-shit'_ is all that's pounding between my ears and I imagine if I close my eyes, I can get an idea of what a heart attack or an aneurysm, or something akin to those, might feel like. Instead, I keep my eyes open, staring first at the ceiling and then tilting my head just enough to meet Lana's eyes beside me. She looks almost as surprised as I feel, but there's something lingering behind her eyes that is equal parts nervousness and cockiness. 

I'm not sure how to react, except to frown in confusion. She must misinterpret my frown because she's on her feet and heading for my bedroom door before I can piece together what she's doing. It's only when I say her name that she pauses, not turning to me.

"Where are you going?" I ask, licking my lips and drawing more of her taste into my mouth by accident. 

"Just to the bathroom to wash off my make-up before we head to bed."

She doesn't turn to me as she leaves and I don't call out to her again. I sit up and scoot back until my back is pressed against my bed. Pulling my knees up so I can rest my chin on them, I puzzle out what just happen. My cousin just kissed me. I just had my first kiss with Lana. Lana who is both my cousin and a girl. The same girl I've always hated even though I never really did. Like how Billard once whispered for me to tell the kitty cat monster under my bed not to scratch the floor anymore but didn't really. Like how the kitty cat monster actually listened but didn't because it wasn't real. Shit, none of that even makes sense.

Something brushes against my back and I ignore it, lost in my reverie and confusion. When something brushes against the small of my back again, shirt actually lifting in its' wake, I nearly shit myself as I fumble awkwardly to untangle my limbs and jump away from my bed. Panicked, I stare into the blackness beneath my bed and swear I see glittering golden eyes peering back at me from within its' depths. A blink of my eyes makes it disappear and holy shit, I don't think I can survive all these surprises today. Maybe it's Laurel, but it's doubtful since last time I saw him, he was sleeping on the couch in the living room.

There's nothing under my bed, never has been, I tell myself. It's a mantra I've developed in the last two years to get me through the nights when the breathing becomes snarling growls and violent shakes of my bed. Billard has been hugged so hard in that time that he's a lump of his former glory, which makes me sad. Still, I won't admit to being afraid, because there's no monster. Never was. It's all just in my head.

And even if there was one -- which there isn't -- I wouldn't be afraid.

When Lana comes back, I'm under the bed covers, hugging Billard and embarrassed that she caught me doing it. She smiles at this but there's no teasing upturn at the corner of her lips like there usually is. For some reason, when she flips off the light and crawls into bed with me, I can feel my pulse begin to race. Lana is unusually quiet, which doesn't help the knots in my stomach. I'm kind of disappointed that she doesn't try to pull too close to me, almost like she's afraid of what I'll do or say. As much as I hate to admit it, I had grown use to these sleepovers we've had more and more frequently in the last few years. And especially, I've grown use to the feeling and smell of her pressed against me as we slept.

Regardless of the fact that she kissed me, I didn't want that to change.

Reaching out my hand, I find her hip in the dark and tug at her until she understands and slides over to me, her arms encircling me carefully. In all my life, I've never once known Lana to show any kind of fear beyond that of spiders, but here she was, literally trembling and hesitant to get too close to me even though I could tell she really wanted to.

I pull her closer, encircling her in my own arms, Billard trapped between our breasts -- mine are still smaller than hers, and I hold little hope that they'll get too much bigger in the next few years -- and I tuck her head beneath my chin, thankful that I had the height advantage over her age advantage. It's not long before I hear the familiar sounds of her even breathing in sleep, and beneath us, I can hear the other breathing, but it seems different somehow.

That night, I swear it sounds like the monster is crying.

*

Teeth scrape roughly against my hip and I gasp aloud and quickly curse softly.

"You're going to get us in trouble," I said in a low voice. "It's bad enough you get me into the weirdest kind of trouble as it is. I don't know how we'd get out of this if my mom walked in."

The room is dark but I know that Lana is giving me an eye roll, lips probably upturned in that teasing smirk of hers. Never in my life would I have thought that look, or even the thought of it, could get me turned on. Her lips press lightly against my hip and I sigh in approval, but squeak when my panties are being tugged off of me. Lifting my hips to help her, Lana doesn't even wait until I've managed to shake them off my legs before her fingers are spreading apart my folds and her tongue is attacking me with the vigor that can only come from being a teenager and fucking as quietly as one can so not to wake up parents.

"Lana..." I groan carefully, twisting my hands in her beautiful red hair. I wish I could see it, but it's after hours and my mom will be able to see my bedroom light if I turn it on. I almost wish she still kept the hallway light on just for that shallow bit of illumination from beneath my door. 

"Fuck..." My hips are off the bed, legs trembling with the effort to keep them up and from the pressure building inside of me.

Lana isn't nice and gentle, never has been, except for a handful of times - like after that first time she kissed me and the first time we had sex together. I appreciate those moments all the more for the gentleness and memories that lingered behind. However, it's the memories of when she's rough like this that I get off to in the shower. 

Always in the shower because I'm never alone in my bedroom.

She sucks my clit sharply between her teeth and I cry out, audibly, and bite into my hand as soon as the sound is out of my mouth as if that will keep it from being heard. But it's too late for that and I'm shivering through the last of my orgasm when my mom bangs on the bedroom door.

"Girls, you are way too old to be playing around at this time. Especially you, Lana. I have work in the morning, so please, keep it down and go to sleep!"

"Sorry!" we both call.

Hard to remember I'm only seventeen years old when my mom is still telling me when to go to sleep at night.

It's only a small relief that she doesn't open the door because I'm sprawled naked on my bed right now, Lana not in a too far-off state, and I can still hear my mom walking back to her room when fingers are slipping inside of me. Snapping my head in Lana's general direction, I open my mouth to question her sanity when she's shifting on the bed, moving upward so she can press her mouth to mine. Without a word, she's finger fucking me fast and hard and I have to clench desperately at her and the bedsheets to keep myself from thrashing about in bed the way I want to. Distantly, I hope my mom can't hear the slap of fingers against wet flesh.

When I'm close to coming, she releases my mouth, to fuck with me, and begins kissing at my throat. Tongue licking at the sweat undoubtedly there as her other hand begins playing with my breast. I'm biting my hand again, just in time to stifle a curse and a cry as Lana scrapes her nails against my nipple and bites my shoulder. The resulting orgasm makes me, or rather, us, topple to the floor and it's only a small blessing that the floor is carpeted or my mom would've been at the door again. Or worst, through it. 

We're laying side by side, my hands clenching her as my body tingles and tries to calm down, breaths barely pulling enough air into my lungs. I can see her now thanks to moonlight from the window. She's watching me with concern, her fingers pushing back my forever unmanageable hair away from my heated face. I'm not used to her being visibly concerned about me but I appreciate the sentiment all the same, pressing a kiss to her shoulder and her cheek to show I'm okay. I'm still panting, but I push up and roll on top of her, pressing my lips to her neck. Lana groans softly, scratching at my back and I shudder because...

Because I can hear scratching against the carpet. 

It has to be Lana so I ignore the sound as I slide down her body, kissing and tasting and biting as I go. She's a little better at keeping quiet than I am, so I only hear the softest of sighs and breaths as I slip between her legs.

And the scratching, still.

In the moonlight, I watch Lana buck and twist beneath my mouth. I can see her red hair washed out slightly in the light, feel her nails against my scalp as she holds my head in place, and drink her in with my mouth. My hands reach up to run against her skin as I toy with her clit before tongue fucking her. I take personal satisfaction in knowing she's disheveled because of me and groan softly when she shudders a breath. She's so close to the edge and while I want to take my time, and have in the past, I decide to just bring her over the edge as soon as possible. Mostly I do it because she's getting louder and I don't want to risk my mother knocking at my door a second time.

"Jada..." she's moaning softly. My name sounds so perverted in her mouth, I note with a smile as I slip fingers into her. She gasps and rocks her hips against me, fingers yanking my hair now. 

"Jada... Yesssss.... There.... Jadaaaaaa!"

And though her voice is low, I still worry my mom might hear so I clamp my hand over her mouth as she comes. She's lewd though, but mostly does it to, again, piss me off, and licks my hand. Growling, I wipe my hand across her breast and then take her nipple in my mouth, nipping it sharply in revenge. She gets the point, giggling and pulling me up so we can kiss. Our legs entwine as she reaches up and tugs the blanket off the bed, clearly not interested in moving from the floor. Billard tumbles down in the tug and I snuggle him against me as Lana snuggles against my other side. 

"G'night, Jada," Lana breaths softly against my skin.

"G'night, Lana."

I close my eyes along with her but notice something a little unsettling. There is no other breathing from beneath my bed, and the scratching has long since stopped. Weird and weird, but in a good way, I think. It finally proves that I was right all these years when I said there was nothing down there. Sleepy, I flutter open my eyes a little and peek into the darkness beneath my bed without moving my head.

I fall asleep telling myself that golden eyes were not in fact staring straight back at me when I peeked.

*

Lana's been gone a month now, which is about how long I've been grounded. Over the years, the two of us had developed a deep love and penchant for pulling pranks. A month ago - after years of fake spiders in cereal boxes, saran wrap booby traps galore, scares, and at least one inappropriate use of a ice cream cone in a prank - my mom had had the last straw.

Lana and I had taken my mom's car and gotten it painted a neon pink. The stuff washed off super easy, but mom wasn't laughing one bit. It was a whole lot unsettling the way she didn't scream, just glared at us until we hung our heads in shame and washed the car without prompting. Then she banned Lana from the house for three months, which stung a lot because we were always together these days except for when we had school - she, college classes; me, my senior year of high school. I'd spent so much time fighting, fucking, and pranking with my cousin that I realized I didn't really know what to do with myself when I couldn't spend time with her. I'm positive that would fact would have freaked me out a few years ago.

We chat over text and webcam sometimes, but it isn't the same.

I'm lying in bed now, tired and wishing Laurel was still alive so I'd at least I could distract myself by scratching him. Instead, I lie there and try to ignore the fact that I'm hopelessly horny. It's unfortunate especially without Lana and the fact that I never masturbate in my bedroom. In the past six months, the monster under my bed has quieted down significantly from it's prior creepiness. I only knew it was still there most days anymore because I could still hear it breathing. It seems like it's either given up trying to scare me or has run out of ways to attempt to do so. I like to think that's because I'm able to believe more and more that it doesn't exist.

So much so, that I hop off my bed and flip off my light before darting back over to my bed, shedding my clothes as I go. Being naked in bed without someone to press up against is lonely but I feel a little like I'm twelve and doing it for the first time just for the thrill. Laying there for a moment, I wait to hear the breathing beneath the bed, but I can't hear a thing. With a smile, I ask Billard if he would mind giving me a little privacy, even though it's silly, and I don't pretend to wait for his affirmation as I turn him to face the wall. 

Slipping my hands over my breasts -- just barely a C-cup -- I focus on what I'm doing, imagining Lana doing it instead. For a while, I slip into a fantasy, eyes closing as my fingers play with my nipples. It's not until I've slipped my hand between my legs that I hear a gasp other than my own. Snapping my eyes open, I gawk stupidly at a young woman standing beside my bed. She's about my age if I had to guess, so eighteen or so, at least in appearance. Her hair is dirty blonde, her skin pale, and her golden eyes are all too familiar. Also, she's glowing slightly, which is how I'm able to pick out so much detail despite the dark.

I don't know who she is but just from the sound of her breathing -- and I know that sound so intimately by now that my dreams always get it right even though they can't decide on a face for it -- I know who she must be.

"Kitty monster?" I ask just as stupidly as I've been gawking. The words pop out of my mouth before I can stop them, making me flush a little in embarrassment.

"That is what you have been inclined to call me all these years, so I assume, yes?" 

Her voice is soft and low, yet oddly familiar because everything about her is oddly familiar although I've never seen or actually heard her before. Her head is tilted down at me, curious and questioning.

And this is all absolutely ridiculous because there is no monster under my bed and there never has been.

Except, no one but myself, Billard, and the monster beneath the bed knows that I refer to it - her, rather - as kitty monster. Sitting up, I hesitantly reach out a hand to touch her arm. She seems confused by my actions until she realizes my intent and meets me halfway, her arm firm and surprisingly warm against my touch. It takes a little more prodding, sliding my hand up her arm to her shoulder, for me to pull back like I've been burned and stare at the other girl with an array of thoughts and questions pounding through my head. There's no way this can be real, but it's hard to deny what's literally right in front of me. 

She doesn't look remotely like a kitty monster, by the way. She's really pretty though.

"Why have you never been afraid of me?" she asks after another moment of me stupidly gawking at her. "Even now you look at me without fear even though I have intruded upon your private time. Should you not be fearful of an intruder or at the very least, angry?"

Her confusion is so clear that I feel almost bad for having caused it. Sitting up, I pull my blanket over myself in a half-hearted attempt at modesty and run a hand through my hair. I'm not really sure how to answer her, because I don't really know myself. Frowning as I try to figure out an answer, I'm surprised by what eventually falls from my mouth without my meaning to. It's from a memory I had long since forgotten.

"Billard told me that as long as he was around, I never should be afraid of you. He promised me no monsters would, or could, ever hurt me, so I should never be afraid."

Her gaze moves past me to Billard, who's still facing the wall as if I had punished him. She smiles softly - her smile a pretty line of soft looking lips - and nods as if my answer makes all the sense in the world. To me, it makes almost as much sense as she does, still, I really like the way her smile brightens up her face.

"Very well," she says and sits beside me. "Then if I cannot scare you, I suppose I shall serve a different purpose in your life."

She leans against me and my heart kicks up several beats as I realize what she's about to do. Her words may have confused me but something I've never felt before is crawling up my throat, and it's not fear. When her lips press against mine, I melt against her, throat squeezing and my face burning. It's not like when Lana kisses me, not at all. It feels right, so right. I never thought kissing could ever feel this nice and just so overall right. Not that kissing Lana was bad, just different than this. That's all heat and craziness, while this was like kissing someone you've loved your whole life.

I must be losing my mind.

Pulling away, I study her face up close, trying to read this not-stranger. Maybe it's a trick, I only belatedly wonder. Yet that doesn't feel right because I feel safe and kind of happy in this other girl's presence. Lightly, I touch her face and smile when her eyes close at my touch, her breath against my skin. She nuzzles my hand and I wonder how the hell this creature was ever suppose to have scared me. Or why she would want to.

"Do you have a name? Other than my silly 'kitty monster' nickname?"

"No. My kind only have the names others decide to dub us as."

"That's weird. What are you? Where do you live at? Why have you been trying to scare me all my life?" The questions are tumbling out of my mouth before I can stop them.

She laughs - it sounds like bells chiming - and kisses my cheek softly. "This is one of the reasons I have always liked you," she says. "You face unusual situations head-on, like when you proved to yourself that there was no monster in your closet by closing your bedroom door and going into the closet in the dark. So little, yet so brave."

"You saw that? But I was only four when I did that! I didn't start hearing you until I was five!"

Her hand is warm against my shoulder, her fingers pressing softly against me as if testing the pliability of my flesh. "I have been watching you since you were born."

"That's probably the creepiest thing you've ever said or done to me. That anyone's ever said or did to me, actually," I laugh awkwardly.

"I apologize but it is simply the way of my kind - the shape-shifters. We peek beneath the beds of children and determine whether or not they are worth testing. When we deem them ready, we begin attempting to scare them. Most are terrified and we earn stripes for each child we scare. It is only a small portion of children that are brave like you. We do not understand it but..."

My blanket slides off my body and her hand comes to rest on my stomach, her fingers soft as they push me onto my back. Swallowing hard, I try to figure out what she's doing even though, again, it's clear. She stands and undoes the knot at her shoulder where a thin, blue gown is held up at, and lets it slide off to the floor. The way it falls off is like water being poured softly over a statue of a goddess. She straddles my hips and presses her face close to mine.

"What are you doing?" I ask, my voice so low I'm surprised she can hear it at all.

"As I said before, since I have been unable to scare you, then I can only be in your life for one other thing." 

"Sex?"

"Mm-hm."

"And if I didn't want to have sex with you?"

She looks sad all of a sudden, pulling away enough so she's looking down at me, studying me.

"Then I would have to go away. Forever." Her eyes flicker to the floor before turning back to me, a glittering fire in them this time. "We deem it an honor to bed the children, once they're of age, that we fail to scare. It's our way of congratulating your bravery, and sometimes it means..."

She looks away, staring down at the space where our naked bodies meet with a visible flush across her face.

Oh.

My hands are moving quickly, cupping her face and drawing it down to mine. I kiss her softly and repeatedly like I'm trying to assure her that everything will be all right. It's so crazy because I've convinced myself for so long that she didn't exist, didn't even know it was a she, but now the very thought of her never being in my life again is just too much to bear. I can't even imagine falling asleep without the sound of her breathing. 

I realize that even though this is the first time I've seen and touched her, I couldn't stand the thought of her presence not in my life. She's as much of a constant as Billard has been in my life and I need them both. And knowing now that she has feelings for me on top it all - which explained the crying I had indeed heard after Lana and I first kissed - I really couldn't bear the thought of hurting her in any way.

"Your name is Kitty from now on," I whisper to her in-between kisses. My hands slide down to her waist, fingers tingling.

"Thank you," she says and hums in approval when I slide my hands over her hips and down her thighs.

*

I never tell Lana about Kitty. She wouldn't understand, like she doesn't understand why I still sleep with Billard every night. She's made some peace with my old rabbit and my attachment to it, though she still sometimes pokes a little fun at me for it. Nowadays he sits on my nightstand, watching over us, which seems to be a decent compromise for her, but she still doesn't understand that he's a constant in my life. A necessity. Something I've had since I was five and could never dream of departing with.

Like Kitty.

For a little while, I tried to convince myself that I had dreamed her up that night, but she came back again the next night, and the next, and ever since. Except for when Lana spent the night. Kitty said she had fallen in love with me and didn't really want to share me, but she understood the relationship I had with Lana, so she kept out of it. Mostly.

"Jada!"

Freckled fingers curl up in my hair, nails scratching at my scalp. My arm burns from pumping her with the dildo in my hand but I ignore it. My knees aren't in much better shape where I've had them pressed against the floor for a long time; Lana on the bed so I'm at a good eye level to watch what I'm doing. She's close to coming, her words coming few and far between, permeated by gasps and shouts permitted to her by the privacy of our own apartment. I'm close to coming too, my fingers rubbing circles around my clit. Although what really has me so close is not my fingers or even the sounds and smell of Lana, though they are attributing to my oncoming orgasm in their own ways. What really has me gasping, glad that my cousin's voice is loud enough to cover my own grunts and gasps, is Kitty's fingers buried inside of me from below.

Oh yes, there are definite perks to having a shape-shifting creature living under your bed. One that can bring you to mind-numbing orgasms with just its' fingers. Possibly because she can shape-shift and expand her fingers any way she wants.

Kitty is pressing kisses to the inside of my knees and thighs wherever she can, while her free hand is kneading my ass. It's so much sensory and friction that I bite down on Lana's thigh to muffle my sharp gasp as I feel my body give in to all pleasure that's been building up inside of me. The bite sends Lana over the edge, making her tug my hair tightly as she rides out her orgasm in a welcome silence. The fingers buried inside of me keep moving until I give out a breathy sigh, body shuddering and sinking down to the floor. Kitty blows me a kiss when I look down and I give her a weak smile before she slips back under the bed and out of sight.

"Amazing," Lana says after a long time of her just laying there panting. "You okay down there?"

"Yeah, just catching my breath."

I push myself up and climb into bed, leaving Lana to pull the dildo out of herself and get comfortable next to me. Sometimes we chat a little before falling asleep for the night, but tonight she snuggles against my side and slips slowly off to sleep.

"Night," she yawns.

"Night."

I wait until her breathing has evened out, her grip on my hip loose now. "Night, Kitty."

A soft giggle. "Goodnight, Jada."

The familiar sound of her breathing fills my ears and I smile lazily at Billard on my nightstand and close my eyes.


End file.
